Crossfire
by Zeitdieb
Summary: SEQUEL TO PUPPETEER - Mephisto's plans for the twins are revealed completely or are they? But how to play chess without pawns? The twins refuse to help him and Amaimon escaped into the woods. But even though his pawns may have decided to pick a detour, they will get to where he wants to have them... one can't plant apple trees today and expect reaping fruits the next year, right?
1. Chapter 01: The Rise

What to know before we start:

**This is a Sequel to my FF Puppeteer... I recommend reading this one first~ everyone who already knows this, welcome back in my reign and curtain up for the promised encore! ;3**

Inspiration: The music album "Kreuzfeuer" (Crossfire) of Subway To Sally! :)

Disclaimer: Everything you already acknowledge from Ao no Exorcist, belongs to the wonderful Kazue Kato! The quoted parts of the lyrics, the title of the story and chapters are the property of Subway To Sally ... I just made up the weird plot around it.

Warning: A glimpse into Amaimon's and Mephisto's not so happy childhood in Gehenna... probably yaoi, not quite sure if explicit or just indicated... we'll see. ^^;

* * *

**Crossfire**

Chapter 1: The Rise

_We're up here all alone,  
No friend no brother catches up on us,  
We fight our way through virgin snow,  
The light hurts in our eyes.  
We are sometimes plagued by doubts in the night,  
But nothing ever dissuaded us from the path.  
We always continue to rise and rise  
Up to the sun!  
_(Subway to Sally, "Der Aufstieg")

* * *

Brotherhood is something completely unfamiliar for demonkind. When demons decided to alliance it was only by vows of loyalty and offering of protection, known as a the bonding-ritual. Though it wasn't an actual rule of demon etiquette per se, it was commonly known in Gehenna that the lower-ranked demon asked for help and offered his own loyalty to the higher-ups... never the other way around.

A green fox sighed and slumped down in a nest of tall reeds growing at the shores of a pond in the garden of the Faustian Mansion and merged perfectly with its surrounding in the brim twilight of the night. The full moon reflected on the rippling surface, looking like a large pearl amidst the deep blackness of the water. Warm summer wind scurried through the grass and carried along the chirping of cicadas and the chorus of tree frogs.

Amaimon had done some thinking the last weeks. Many confusing thoughts that simply could not be fitted together to form an image, but instead fell apart again into their jigsaw pieces. There were too many questions, too few answers and even less real in-depth knowledge.

He wanted to believe that his brother didn't only use him, but... didn't evidence speak against him?

The head of the fox dropped down to rest on its paws as the fox kept on staring into the pond, its pointed ears drooping limply.

If Samael just used him, what worth did Amaimon's childhood memories, he had clung to even as he lost his passion, have? Even as Samael left him behind in Gehenna. Even after decades of being departed from each other...

_"King Samael, would thou mind telling me what thou read?" the young Earth King crawled on Samael's lap and stared curiously at the wornout tome, the King of Time was flipping through, while taking notes on parchment now and then... or rather letting take notes; his quill wrote all by itself._

_»Amaimon." Samael sighed and wrapped an arm around the slender waist of the young Earth King so that he couldn't slip off his lap again so easily. "We are brothers. Do not talk so formal with me, please. "_

_"But mother said, you are so much higher-ranked than I, so it doesn't behoo... beho-" _

_»Behove is the word you are looking for." the King of Time helped, chortling slightly. "And your mother is absolutely right. In public, you have to formally address me by my title, but here in private, you call me "big brother" and won't talk so affectedly, agreed? "_

_Amaimon thought about it for a moment and then nodded with a small smile. His brother was really kind. "So what do you read, big brother?"_

_Samael nodded in approval. "Just a book that brings me closer to my destiny." He stated mysteriously, then turned his forefinger in concentric circles around the quill, making it rock and dance on the parchment like an ice princess on a frozen lake, while the ink painted fine winding patterns and lines on the paper._

_Mesmerized Amaimon bent forward, his shining azure eyes growing as big as saucers. If it wasn't for Samael's arm around his waistline and his tender but firm grip on his hip, he would have slipped from the older ones lap._

_"Can you show me how to do this?" Like every kid, be it human or demon, Amaimon wasn't satisfied by merely looking at its dancing form. Therefore, he reached out his little hand. But as soon as his finger touched the quill, it dropped dead on the parchment. "Oh ..." He quickly pulled his hand back, hoping that the quill may come back to life. "I broke it... I'm so sorry." He almost whined. Things he touched always tended to break._

_Behind him he heard an amused chuckle. "Don't worry, dear brother, it's not broken, just a little petrified." Samael gently nuzzled his nose against the younger demons cheek, assuring him that he wasn't angry and making him purr slightly. "But I can't teach you how it works, because it's one of my special skills and the Earth King inherits different forces. Forces, I will never be able to control. "_

_Amaimon's mood flipped and he grimaced. "Your power is far better than mine." He moped, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I can only make green stuff grow, it's completely useless. And I'm not even particularly good at doing it."_

_More chuckling. A rare sound. Samael was one of the sternest demon kings in Gehenna. He hardly ever smiled, he only grinned. Amaimon liked him in private better. "You're too impatient, little one.« Clawed fingers gently combed through the Earth King's green hair. "Practice makes perfect. If you keep on training you will eventually evolve and be able to make the earth quiver underneath our feet~"_

_"Seriously? Wow! How? Will you show me, brother? Please, please, please!"_

_Samael snorted in laughter. »Amaimon, I already told you that I cannot teach you. Don't you listen or do you not believe my words? It is your power alone and it will evolve by itself. You have to be patient,." His eyes sparkled like dancing flames making his irises seem to glow a brighter shade of green whenever he was amused. "I can only teach you the basic rules of demon etiquette and, more importantly, how to use your mind. Everything else you will achieve through hard work and exercising. You will be great, promised."_

The fox sighed again.

This kindness, patience, brotherly care, all those precious moments between them... was it just a façade to make him a mindless pawn of Mephisto's chess game? Could his planning and plotting have gone back that far? And if this wasn't the case, if Mephisto didn't have any ulterior motives back then, where did the Aniue of that time go to? Where was he now?

No, it was foolish to hope that Mephisto only spent time with him to enjoy his company and to establish fraternal bonds. It wasn't demon-like at all and, after all, he had seen and experienced several times what Mephisto was capable of and how far his plans usually went.

_»Aniue? Why do WE do that? I mean, I'm just the Earth King ... and you don't really need me." He couldn't deny that he was nervous. After all, one wasn't prompted to bond with one of the most powerful demons in Gehenna every day. What if he disappointed Samael? What if he was too weak?_

_But when the King of Time caressed his cheek, his fears were gone and he felt a shaky tremor passing through his body. Desire. He must not fail his big brother. "Because I want it, even a king who rules over time and space can't fight alone forever and thus needs faithful allies."_

_"But why not one of the other, stronger kings? Why me? I mean, they'd be much more powerful~" A finger was placed on his lips, silencing him._

_»Hush, little one~ because I want you and because you're special." Samael's voice was seductively dark and gentle. The answer sent a warm tingling sensation through his body and soothed his fears of disappointing his big brother. He was special? So he was important?_

_His train of thoughts ended abruptly when Samael leaned forward and sank his fangs into Amaimon's left shoulder. A pain like hot iron on delicate skin burned through his entire body. The pact began to take shape, and against all expectations, it felt good. He gasped and arched his back slightly. "Be mine, Amaimon. Swear it, vow it."_

_»Aniue ... hng ... I swear to be faithful to you forever and I vow to loyally serve you. I dedicate my whole existence just to please y-" Again a finger on his lips silenced him. Stern green eyes locked with his, as Samael slowly shook his head._

_"Do not promise something as foolish as that. I do not want your existence, I just asked for your loyalty."_

_Amaimon, felt a bit hurt that Samael considered his oath as foolish, but then he nodded, too mind blown to object. "I swear to you my loyalty, Samael, King of Time," The burning pain got stronger, snaked down his neck and through his spine, stunning him for a few terrifying seconds, before it just merely nudged him, waiting for the pact to be completed. That would happen, when they sealed the pact with carnal lust._

The green fox raised and looked down on the rippling reflection of his shoulder. Greenish fur concealed the mark on his skin, as if it wasn't there at all. Maybe it was better that way. At least it helped Amaimon in convincing himself that he had done the right thing by escaping... even though he had doubts about it.

If it had been important for Mephisto for him to come back, he would have activated the mark and therefore forced him back, but apparently it was not important at all.

As soon as he had realized this, it all made perfectly sense for him. Amaimon was born to be the Earth King, and more importantly, he was born _after_ Samael claimed the title of King of Time. There was no other king he could have had manipulated right from the start, no other king to fool so masterfully with semblance of fraternity. It had already been strange, but the fact that Mephisto was a strange demon in general, somewhat mitigated the truth. Amaimon had been fooled from childhood on.

Mephisto formed his perfect pawn from the beginning with meticulous care to place and move it to his liking. How naïve Amaimon had been. All those years.

And even now that he was aware of the truth, he couldn't simply doubt his Aniue, or leave him or completely turn his back on him for his own sake. He was still loyal. His whole being was usually focused on Mephisto's welfare, but for now his own well-being seemed more important. Just for now, a little break.

He was torn between back and forth, between to and fro.

The fox got up and shuffled back to its hideout. At the spot where it had rested, a water hemlock* started to grow at incredible speed until it stretched its leaves visibly between the reeds.

* * *

TBC

* * *

*Hemlock: language of flowers: You have poisoned my life.

**A/n: Thank the hospital for being so boring and for me to be overly creative to write on like a maniac. x'D I actually wanted to wait longer, give myself a nice break from the plot... but well, I couldn't I'm already plotting and thinking and dreaming about this story.**

**I know it's pretty short a start and the next two or so upcoming chapters seem to be not much longer, but I think every protagonist has to do some thinking after the events in Puppeteer and there are four of them. ^^;  
**

**Some Amaimon thinking about his current situation, while still hiding, and some of his precious childhood memories, which aren't so precious at all, considering Mephisto all planned manipulating his younger brother right from the start... or did he not? ;3 I think Mephisto is acting cute... *gets slapped* -.- He thinks I'm an overly romantic nitwit...  
**

**I blame the medication for fatal grammar errors or typos~**


	2. Chapter 02: Judas Kiss

**Crossfire  
**Chapter 02: Judas Kiss

* * *

_No one except me my brother  
Will remain at your side,  
But one will in a thousand years  
Still write songs about us.  
No one will understand the act.  
You have to give me the freedom  
To carry this cross for you,  
Sprinkling it with blood for you.  
(Subway to Sally "Judaskuss")_

* * *

Suppression is a remarkable habit of humankind. Whenever a human gets tormented by unpleasant or dark thoughts, it is able to banish those thoughts into the far corners of the mind until they simply are forgotten for the sake of sanity. Or at least they are stored there for a certain amount of time. While some aren't capable to influence suppression willingly, others can perform this stunt artfully.

If necessary, Rin could be a master of suppression.

A reason why he forgot to do uncomfortable homework every now and then or why he often couldn't recall that daydreaming wasn't appropriate during classes. He had even, for some time, suppressed his knowledge about being Satan's son. It resulted into loads of detention and lower grades than everyone else in his class had and into inability to control the power of his flames. Therefore those weren't the best examples for successful suppression.

However, casting aside the latest events regarding Mephisto proved to be particularly promising. Sure, he remembered those plans occasionally whenever he came across the clown, but his level of discomfort around him was reduced to a minimum again.

Sometimes life was easier when you didn't let this kind of stuff affect you too much. Even if Yukio thought he was naïve and careless, but unlike him Rin didn't hide from Mephisto whenever he crossed a corridor and he didn't start blushing violently and stuttering incoherently whenever it was unavoidable to pay the demon principal a visit.

"...mura-kun! Okumura-kun!" A thick textbook crashed down on his desk with a thud, making Rin jump startled. Looking up he met the unforgiving glare of Ayuhara-sensei, his English teacher. A few other students started snickering around him, only Godain-kun spared him a sympathetic smile.

Damn, he dozed off in class again without even realizing it!

"Y-yes...?" He tried his luck with a shy grin, while sheepishly scratching the back of his head.

The teacher huffed. And pointed at his copy of Shakespeare's Hamlet. "You will read out the part of Polonius, third act. Godain-kun takes the role of Hamlet, Hayato-kun the part of the king and Inoue-kun the part of Ophelia. And Okumura-kun, pay attention at least once. Your grades in English are already a disaster and your patron expects better from you." Her eyes narrowed at him. She'd always denounce him for being Mephisto's fosterling, even though it wasn't his fault.

Rin grimaced. His pronunciation in English was far worse than horrible and Shakespeare was clearly beyond his level. He couldn't read out the simplest English sentences without making mistakes; how was he supposed to read out something as complicated as that?

He was trying, though. But as he stumbled through the verses, making the whole class shake with laughter, Ayuhara-sensei quickly lost patience with him and announced another student for that task. She shook her head in disappointment and disbelieve at him and took a note down in the class register. Rin blushed in shame and anger and sat down on his chair again.

Ordinary classes were a waste of time... skipping classes in middle school every so often, he didn't have the basic knowledge to complete the more challenging requirements of high school. He knew it, Yukio knew it, everyone knew it, but Mephisto was being stubborn about his education... and that's why he was sitting here.

He sighed and allowed himself to get lost in reverie again by staring out of the window. Butterflies danced in the air and a green fox shyly weaseled through a flower bed, carrying a big, colourful lollipop between its teeth, before disappearing into the bushes.

Rin blinked ... a green fox...?

Foxes weren't green. And they, sure as hell, didn't fed on lollipops.

And what about that horn on its forehead ...?

_Amaimon._

Rin jumped on his feet and thereby attracted the attention of his entire class once again. But that didn't matter to him. He had the chance to talk to Amaimon in private and he wouldn't miss it. There were still so many questions he wanted to have answered from that stubborn broccoli-head.

Ayuhara-sensei gave him a stern look. "Okumura-kun, if you do not take part in English class, at least behave-"

"Excuse me, I feel sick. Infirmary!" He excused himself in a rush, while shouldering his sword and bag, and stormed out of the classroom, before he sprinted down two flights of stairs to the ground floor and rushed into the open. It didn't take him long to find the place where the fox had escaped into the bushes and he didn't hesitate to follow him into the thicket.

Half an hour later of unsuccessful looking for Amaimon's whereabouts, he kinda gave up on searching. But just as he made this decision, he crossed a clearing and stumbled across the Earth King by accident. Or so he believed...

Amaimon squatted on his haunches, no longer a green fox but in his human form, and nipped on his sugary treat. When he looked at him with that sadonic sneer and rose to full height, Rin instantly knew, he had expected him.

Rin swallowed and reached for Kurikara. _Tough shit!_

* * *

- TBC -

* * *

**A/n: Rin's part of thinking, which isn't quite thinking but rather ignoring...? I think that's what Rin would do... cast unpleasant thoughts aside for a while and focus on more important stuff. After all he's a simple mind. x) And he wouldn't suddenly become all shy and ashamed around Mephisto like his dear brother. Rin's way of dealing with problems seems pretty easy-going... I'm kinda jealous about it. o.O;**

**Hnnn... and it's even shorter than the first chapter... *shame on me*  
**

**Hmmm... hope another encounter between Amaimon and Rin won't turn them both into mince meat, that would be nasty~**


	3. Chapter 03: You Better Run

**Crossfire  
**Chapter 03: You Better Run

* * *

_Say goodbye to all  
The bygone days  
Let your stars dance  
Make a clean sweep at last  
Because you now have to dare it all  
You should not wear grief  
The world it keeps on turning  
Turns, even without you.  
_(Subway to Sally "Besser du Rennst")

* * *

Cleanliness. Order. Silence.

Mephisto appreciated those three little things of everyday life and he finally regained them a few weeks ago.

No Earth King who would devastate his office and cause chaos wherever he walked or who would leave sugary fingerprints all on the glass of his show cases.

No Amaimon gathering trash and trinkets from all over Japan, cluttering his tables and floor.

No annoying little brother, who whined that it was boring here in Assiah and permanently demanded full attention from Mephisto.

Actually, it should have been as pleasant as it was peaceful. So why didn't it feel good?

Mephisto leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, massaging the brink of his nose with forefinger and thumb.

As King of Time - and space - it should have been easy for him to track Amaimon down and he had tried to several times, but Amaimon effaced his aura and with it his whole presence. Without it he couldn't be found, even by him. And the Earth King had been clever enough to do it the moment he jumped out of the window of Mephisto's office to escape, leaving no trace.

Shielding one's aura came with a price, though. Amaimon's power was limited to a minimum... so, if he needed his powers up to a certain degree, his presence would automatically be re-activated. But for that Amaimon would have to make use of his powers and wherever in Assiah he was located at the moment, he wouldn't risk revealing himself so easily.

Weeks...

He spent years in Assiah without this stubborn, noisy brat. So, why did he give it so much of a thought right now? Amaimon was able to take care of himself... no need to be concerned.

_Concerned? _Mephisto snorted. _Pathetic. _

And he was actually still upset about Amaimon's way of escaping. So rebellious and yet too simple a trick.

Mephisto opened his eyes and looked around in his office. It was wonderfully clean and tidy. No one complained that it was boring to be stuck in this room and watch him working instead of doing his globetrotter thing.

Cleanliness. Order. Silence.

How oppressing those three things, he had often longed for, could be, when in exchange an important person went missing.

His gaze dropped down to the desk and to his hands tucked in violet gloves. A mild smile played on his lips as the color stirred a long forgotten memory in him.

_"Yes, now I have it! Lavender!"_

_"Hm? Amaimon, express yourself more clearly. And I can't read minds, so what about lavender?"_

_"I found the flower which fits best to you! Lavender!"_

_"Pardon?"_

_»Aniue, you don't know about the language of flowers? Tch... everybody knows about that. Anyway, lavender represents determination and ambition."_

The principal chuckled and it was a sallow sound. Did Amaimon ever notice that Mephisto accented a large part of his wardrobe in lavender?

He rose from his upholstered seat, snapped his fingers accompanied by a count of German numbers to quickly change into his exorcist uniform, while he flicked his mobile phone with his other hand dialing the number of his chauffeur. It was time for a visit.

* * *

Mephisto proffered Shiro's tomb a pack of cigarettes and a six-pack of beer, before he lit one of the incense sticks and knelt in front of the grave he hadn't visited since the funeral.

"Prost, mein Freund," the demon said with a smirk. "I know I haven't been here for quite a while, I was busy with... well, business and you know that the world never stops turning, not even for you. Your "little rascals", as you so fondly used to paraphrase them, keep me busy for example. You raised Rin to be just such a churlish daredevil like yourself on purpose, so that I would always have a permanent annoying reminder of the nuisance you have been at times, didn't you? You did a fair good job at teaching him about no sense of decency and improper manners." he criticised and poked his index finger against the kanji for "ro" in Shiro's epitaph. "Admit it, it was sheer mal intent."

The grave remained persistently silent, of course, making Mephisto sigh.

"Ahhh... it's boring to talk with you if you don't retort. Why am I talking to a stone cross anyway? It's silly, pointless and terribly unproductive..." he murred. "...but humans do it all the time when they miss someone, so maybe I'll learn something new by attempting? Not that I particularly miss you."

His forefinger gently traced over the contours of the carved kanji. "Well, at least your name is on this thing... God told me your soul is safe and sound, but I don't have a clue what this might mean. What happens to souls when they don't get devoured by demons or are reborn? Is it like vacation in paradise? I bet, then you are most likely in company of many female chests." He rolled his eyes.

"What a priest you have been." Mephisto snorted slightly amused. "Oh, I told your little boys about us, by the way, that's my little revenge for leaving me without a word. Seriously, Shiro, your manners." He shook his head in disbelieve. "I admit it's a bit of a cheap shot, but that's the only pleasure I could have since you're dead. They don't know anything about our relationship apart from us having sex, though." A lascivious, self-satisfied grin plastered his thin lips. "Yukio was devastated." A nasty chuckle escaped his mouth. "And the derailment of his facial expression was divine."

The demon elegantly sat down on the edge of the grave's basement and fished for a beer. "I treat myself to one of those in your honour, even if I can't stand the taste of beer. Objections? No? I guessed so much... honestly, you used to be more talkative in life, Shiro." With a hiss and clack Mephisto opened the can and took a hearty swig. And he grimaced. "How could you voluntarily drink something so nasty?"

The grave remained tenaciously silent.

It was frustrating in a way, on the other hand, Mephisto had not expected anything else. He rolled the can between his hands, leaned against the stone cross and closed his eyes for a moment. He enjoyed the warm sunshine on his face and imagined that he was leaning against the shoulder of the man who was buried there, instead of leaning against a grave. A soft smile lit on his lips. That was a pleasant thought, incredibly sentimental and pathetic, but pleasant.

God was right about pretty much everything that she had said about him... as annoying as admitting this might be.

He was different in many aspects. He might seem calculating and vicious on the surface and he certainly had every reason to do so. After all he was a demon and humans didn't expect anything else from him than exactly that. But inwardly... inwardly, feelings developed inside him, a demon couldn't possibly ever possess. They weren't as refined and as distinct as human emotions, but they were strong enough so that he couldn't simply deny them. They were delicate, rudimentary, fragile and so very unnerving.

He never loved Shiro. Love was something for incorrigible, human romantics. But he had evolved a certain fascination and a bit of attachment for the deceased, which, for his taste, was close enough to the original. And even if he didn't like the loss of Shiro one bit, he would never mourn for him like a human would. There was no emptiness inside him or the silly desire to pour out his grief, crying all day long and cooping up in bed for weeks, maybe even month, to come in hope of erasing pain of absolute separation with time. He merely felt a strange dullness in his chest when he thought about Shiro, not unlike the feeling of hunger.

He also didn't love Amaimon, but he felt something similar to brotherly affection towards him. He had shaped and carved him from the day he was born, had seen him grow up and enjoyed the gratitude of the Earth King in each and every aspect. So the stubborn fool grew dear to Mephisto's... yes, what exactly? Grew dear to his heart? This would be too much of a claim, but it was as closest to the vestigial emotions stirring within him as he could get when thinking about his little brother. And although it didn't exactly hurt his feelings that he got abandoned by him, the thought of Amaimon losing his confidence in him, didn't leave him untouched.

He shaped both of them according to his wishes, pursuing his plans and enjoying the additional amenities that triggered such bonds along the way.

Apart from them there had been a few others who managed to carve out a portion of his hidden feeling side... Faust for instance, or Jeanne d'Arc. Great personalities, known from history books and classic literature. He had offered and served them his ideas of immortality... of course they never thanked him for that, but he had never expected them to, either.

Those special pawns eventually became knights and ultimately evolved into queens in his game of chess. In every century there was at least one of a kind... they were predictable but always came as a surprise as well. Rin and Yukio inherited this potential...

However, emotions are tricky, twisted and confusing, even for a demon like him, who'd spent centuries in Assiah and studied human behaviour. He could never fully grasp them, no matter how hard he tried. And they made him appear soft and clouded his razor-sharp, calculating mind now and again. In Gehenna this circumstance would have cost him his position and most likely even his life and in Assiah people expected a certain demonic pattern from him. A demon who stepped out of line too much, was after all more dangerous than one who moved according to demon-nature. In addition, he often had no idea how to deal with feelings himself. Yes, he had to admit that emotions sometimes overstrained him.

Years of practice taught him to hide this all too human trait inside, caging it and storing the cage away, like getting rid of a bird that sung too loud for everybody's liking. They were hidden so deep inside him that he entirely forgot about feelings himself at times. But at some point they would always urge back into the light, like pest plants you just couldn't get rid of, no matter how many times you plucked them out.

"You saw it, didn't you? You never talked about it - well, we never talked about such things - but you gazed behind the façade and you knew all about it. I saw it in your eyes, I... felt it." He rolled the word on his tongue like a bitter drop.

The grave remained silent. _So frustrating..._

"Oh dear, I fear this form of sentimentality disagrees with me. Talking to a grave stone neither satisfies my need to have a proper crosstalk with you, nor do I feel myself any closer or in any way connected to your immortal soul. I just feel a bit sick but that probably stems from the abhorrent taste of your beer." He chuckled and slowly opened his eyes.

Mephisto rose, put the can back to the others and petted the rough surface of the stone cross a last time. "Well, I'll say goodbye for now and probably forever, this kind of one-sided conversation is not to my liking and therefore it is now time for me to draw the line once and for all. Lebwohl, mein Freund." he murmured softly, turned around without looking back, and left the cemetery with sovereign steps.

No sign betrayed that he was aware of someone watching the whole scene from behind a tree.

A victorious grin settled on his lips. He usually appreciated to hide his pathetic feelings from the world, but why shouldn't he use them to his advantage for a change?

Did I stir questions in your mind, Yukio Okumura?

* * *

TBC

* * *

**A/n: Since the last update was such a short chapter I decided to upload this one a tad bit earlier. ;) I know, I left you guys with a cliffhanger in the chapter before and you still have to be patient. First we have to stroll through every protagonist's mind. *gets stoned by the masses***

**A bit of background story on Mephisto's part here. I have to admit I couldn't resist. Shiro x Mephisto is my OTP after all... ^^; But Mephisto had to draw the line... and of course he had to leave a certain impression on the eye-witness... -.- Oh Yukio, don't fall for his trap...  
**


	4. Chapter 04: So Far, So Close

**Crossfire  
**Chapter 04: So Far, So Close

* * *

_Endless seems the desire  
To love ourselves until we fall,  
But to think that there is happiness,  
Is the greatest deception of all.  
Our time will be over,  
Before you and I know it  
And no moon, no raining stars  
Can sweeten the bitterness._  
(Subway to Sally "So Fern, So Nah")

* * *

Yukio had wanted to distance himself from the events in his recent past. He had plunged into work, had avoided Sir Pheles, whenever he could, and had never spoken a word about the principal's outrageous request, not even to Rin. Even though his brother had so desperately tried to discuss the subject with him.

_"What do you need us for? What is our part in your plan, Sir Pheles?"_

_"You are our keys for reshaping bonds that are no longer desired and requested."_

According to his explanation about alliances between demons before, Mephisto Pheles did not leave any misunderstanding about the interpretation of _reshaping bonds_.

But all of Yukio's effort to avoid the subject took its revenge, whenever he had spare time to ponder. Then the thoughts streamed like torrents into his head, shuttered his brains like a weak dam to fed on his mind. At night there came nightmares haunting at him, from which he awoke bathed in sweat every so often. Yet, the offer in itself was only half as nasty as all the knowledge that went with it... the background story which drove the demon to suggest such a blatant and disgusting plea.

There were moments when he hated Sir Pheles that he had told him so shamelessly about his past in detail, actively manipulating him to feel sympathy towards him.

There were moments when he hated Rin that he had unknowingly dragged him into this mess, while, at the same time, he envied him for being able to blithely shrug the whole issue off and forget it.

But most of all, he still hated himself for being so weak and for wanting to blame others for his insufficiency.

He was trapped in a neverending doom loop of reproach and guilt, in an endless tango of rage and shame, no escape in sight. His mind was spinning in circles, always circulating around the same questions and always ending up in evoking the same conflicting feelings over and over again.

This situation made him feel utterly helpless. And, basically, he hadn't even someone he could ask for advice. He was on his own. There had been just one person in his life he had confided everything about himself and his problems. And, although Shiro Fujimoto was dead and could not give him any advice nor comforting words any longer, Yukio got automatically dragged towards him, when despair seemed to be too overwhelming for him to cope on his own.

However, when he entered the cemetery this afternoon and saw Sir Pheles sitting at his father's grave, the young exorcist instinctively fled like a coward behind the broad trunk of a yew tree. Of all the places, this was one of the last ones Yukio would have considered to find him.

Demons know no grief. That was common knowledge.

Yet he was sitting there with a can of beer between his hands, eyes closed and a smile on his lips that appeared so honest and was therefore so unusual for him that Yukio almost thought he was just hallucinating. The boy stared. He stared from his hiding place to the demon who, all dressed in white, was illuminated by the sunlight and thus looked like he was an epiphany sent by God himself.

And he witnessed the same twinge of pondering nostalgia on him that he remembered from their chat in the study.

Yukio felt his heart starting to race.

That image in front of him had nothing in common with the over-pious politeness and fraudulent friendliness of Mephisto Pheles. This was real. And yet... how could a creature of hell look so human? Why was he even here?

Yukio's heart skipped a few beats when his questions got answered in his mind all by themselves.

_»I've spent many hours with your foster-father in this room. And we never went in here for research purposes... well, not ordinary research, actually... if you know what I'm talking about...«_

Up until now, Yukio assumed that Sir Pheles and his father just happened to sleep with each other - as disturbing as that thought might be. Over the last few weeks he had successfully persuaded himself that Shiro Fujimoto simply succumbed to the insidious charm of that shameless incubus demon. It was the only hope that worked as cement for the toppling ruins that once used to be Yukio's world; after all, it was hard to withstand an incubus' temptations... especially a priest must have been easy prey, talking about celibacy and men's craving for carnal desires.

But seeing Sir Pheles now made Yukio ponder on the question if, maybe, there was more to the relationship between them than he had previously thought.

Whenever Yukio was allowed - or had - to be present to report on a mission, he always found himself witnessing how casual the two were acting and talking. In retrospect, he had been blind and ignorant to not notice their vibes at that time. How many times had they exchanged furtive glances that Yukio never knew to interpret, and how often had they laughed at jokes that Yukio would not even grasp the basics of...?

_"Shiro... hehehe... he nearly went into raptures over those guns so that I memorize all the silly details about them... he was such a gun-geek at times."_

There was more deepness hidden in this statement than Yukio had perceived at the moment in which Sir Pheles had talked to him. The demon principal had known Shiro Fujimoto well enough to be able to associate his traits and quirks. This meant that they had spent time together, not only for business reasons but also in private. And apparently they didn't just randomly jump each other on sight, whenever they felt undisturbed, no, they also used their time together to chat and joke and go out... didn't they go out drinking after work quite often? In other words, they had built up a relationship.

What kind of relationship that might have been was up to Yukio's guess, but it seemed to be more than just a typical friendship between buddies.

Suddenly it was there, that feeling of attachment towards the person who brought upon him his mental confusion and who smashed his world with one clean swipe. A closeness that he had never asked for and that he clearly didn't want. But... as much as the voice of his mind strived against certain things, his heart disagreed and clung to the strange, forming bond.

Mephisto Pheles, Samael, had successfully adapted his human role and now it seemed harder to simply label him as just another demon... even if this all was only charade, even if he usually did things to manipulate people and thereby achieve his own goals step by step.

But at the current moment, the principal assumed himself alone with a dead man on a deserted graveyard and his monologue, well, him just dropping by, spoke volumes of what Shiro Fujimoto meant to him.

_"Yukio, all demons are not created equal. Even if one powerful demon can wreak havoc, powerful men can do too. The bible dictates that demons have no free will to decide whether to be good or evil, that they simply exist to lead us into temptation and to test humankind. But, always remember that the bible was written by men, not by God... everything that surpasses the strength and power of humanity, automatically applies to us as a threat and will arise the pressing urge to immediately enslave or destroy it. It is one of our basic instincts that ensures our survival, even nowadays, even if we claim that our modern minds outweigh our oldest fears. Demons are as capable to decide as we are and that they always decide to their advantage, doesn't necessarily mean that they are lesser beings than humans; actually, it makes them by far more honest than the likes of us. Therefore it is at each exorcist's discretion to determine whether the decisions of a demon is truly destructive or if a conflict can be solved in a gentler way."_

A gentler way... these words... their father used to say them often and Rin had memorized those words. They were his trigger to selflessly rush into battles and protect the people who were precious to him.

He himself, however... did he memorize them well?

Yukio accepted demons only up to a certain degree, actually, only when they served as familiars. Kuro was a good example for that. The cat sidhe was a loving friend and a loyal companion as long as he was bound. Otherwise, he reacted aggressively and was an immense danger to his environment.

But, was it not anger born of grief that made him temporarily destructive?

First, the mourning for the people in general, who had abandoned him, making him feel lonely and lost in modern society, and finally mourning for his lost friend who had first seen the sadness behind the curtain of anger. Demons know no grief... as for Kuro it was simply not true to say that. Yukio had witnessed him weep bitterly for his former master.

His eyes darted back to Sir Pheles, who had raised in the meanwhile and now caressed the rough stone cross. The young exorcist was too far away to hear his words, but close enough to catch the softness hidden behind the usual mockery in his voice.

Did this demon, too, mourn that very same man?

Did Shiro Fujimoto mean more to him than other people? Were they friends or even more than that?

And even if that was the case, did it change something in Yukio? Did it change his view on the demon standing there? Wasn't he still a manipulative, cold bastard, despite it all?

The questions buzzed in his head. For the first time Yukio couldn't pinpoint logic to the scene he just witnessed and his impression of Mephisto Pheles. The pieces would just not fit together, no matter how often he spinned and rolled them.

A short time later the principal turned to go, walking towards the exit of the cemetery, his cape billowing behind him, as proud and as majestic as he always appeared in public. No sign betraying the sentiment of earlier.

When he was finally out of sight, Yukio stepped forward from behind the yew tree and strolled to his father's grave. He stared at the tombstone for a while, read the Kanji engraved into it and could not believe that he would never see his father again or hear him laugh. He always felt like this when he came here.

They say time heals all wounds, but there are wounds that can tear open again, no matter how much time passed by. In Yukio's case it was not the thought of his father that re-opened old wounds, it was the tombstone itself. It alone was the solid, remaining thing of his father that existed in this world.

No more than a stone ornament with his name on it and his ashes beneath, in memory of a wonderful, beloved person...

When he was alone, Yukio Okumura usually also kept pretending to be strong for his own sanity and did not submit to his feelings. But this time, for a brief moment, he let his stone mask fall from him like an uncomfortable piece of clothing... and almost immediately got drowned in a wave of despair which washed over him like a giant roller would crush down on a cockleshell.

"Father, what am I to do...?" The young exorcist began talking in a breathy voice, feeling as small and as weak and as helpless as he used to be when he was little. "Everything goes downhill since you left." It sounded so despicably. "How can I achieve what you have done? How did you manage it all those years?" It sounded so pathetic. "I'm not as strong as you were. I'm just not, no matter how hard I try and how much I wish to be." And as he spoke these last words, the tears broke loose all by themselves. Hot and painful they streamed down his cheeks, dripping onto the dusty ground and the grave's basement.

He clenched his hands into fists, placed either one on one arm of the cross, left and right, and bend forward to press his forehead against the cold, stony surface of the longitudinal axis, seeking support and comfort alike.

"Why, Father? Why did you... go from us... in the moment... in which... we would have needed you... the most." He sobbed and sank down to his knees, embraced the cross the same way he had embraced his father's legs when he had still been young and dependent. "I still need you. I'm not ready for all this yet."

A shaking, weeping teenager, lost somewhere between his childhood and the one crucial step to adulthood, lost in a world that could no longer be forced into black and white terms but rather displayed various shades of grey. Everything he believed in so far collapsed into ruins and his own self turned out to be just a fake ID.

Who was he? Who was the true Yukio Okumura?

He found no answer to that one... and the grave remained silent.

* * *

TBC

* * *

**A/n: QxQ Erm... my my, such a dramatic ending here... is it too dramatic? What do you think? **

**I just thought it had to happen sooner or later that Yukio simply loses his control and realizes that he is not Shiro Fujimoto 2.0. But if you suddenly realize that you are not the one you believe to be or should be, who are you then? To take this illusion that he could be like his father off him, feels like an important step towards finding his own identity. So, stay strong, Yukio! You're still young and you'll learn who you will and want to be, even without guidance. **

**I really feel sorry for him, but I also like to break characters and all the tragedy it stirs from then on. ^^; *should feel shame now, but does not* **

**Sooooo, summing up, we now have: a resentful Amaimon, an ignorant Rin, an emotionally challenged but still deviously manipulative Mephisto (you couldn't just live with one adjective, could you? -.-) and a broken Yukio. Wonderful... now, we can finally go on with the story. YAY! :D **


	5. Chapter 05: The Hunt Begins

**Crossfire  
**Chapter 05: The Hunt Begins

* * *

_I hear the leaves fall  
And as the spider quietly weaves,  
I sense your steps,  
Because faintly, very faintly the earth quakes.  
I smell you when the hunt begins.  
I hear your heart, when the hunt begins.  
I chase after you, when the hunt begins.  
The horns howl when the hunt begins!  
_(Subway to Sally »Die Jagd Beginnt«)

* * *

Branches slapped him in the face. He stumbled over roots and slipped on wet leaves. His breath ragged his lungs and his sides pinched. Still he could go on like this forever. He just knew it. He had a demon's stamina, after all.

Whatever Rin had expected from their previous encounter, being dragged across the school forest certainly wasn't one of the possible scenarios. And even less had he expected that he would let himself get dragged along. Maybe it was due to the urgency of the act, maybe it was just utter stupidity on his side. He didn't know, he just rushed into things without too much thinking. Thinking was his Achilles' heel, so why bother?

Amaimon was devilishly quick. Like a wild animal he dashed through the undergrowth, sprang in large leaps over fallen tree trunks and changed directions so frequently that Rin had trouble keeping up with him; meaning, without tumbling and falling. Only hell knew, if the Earth King would stop and give him the chance to get up again... most likely, he'd just keep on running. It sounded like a lot of pain including broken bones, bruises and torn skin. An experience the teenager rather wished to avoid.

They brought quite the distance between their former location and here, running at such speed. Rin had no clue were they were headed, but eventually he could hear the faint rush of a river somewhere in the distance. Shortly after, it became rather sombre around them and Amaimon came to an abrupt halt when the darkness seemed to be at its deepest. Unable to see properly, Rin noticed this circumstance too late and therefore crashed with full force into the back of his demonic sibling.

It felt as if he rushed right into a thick concrete wall at full speed.

"Ou... dammit!" That nasty crunching sound must have been his nose and the distinctive pain that crawled up his spine like a band made of thousands sharp-edged shards had to be his coccyx hitting the floor in a rather unfortunate angle.

Quite unimpressed by the collision Amaimon still remained standing as solid as rock and gazed around. Rin scowled. Bastard! He could at least have faltered a bit. But the Earth King didn't take notice of the hostilities thrown at him. He seemed busy; his ears twitched like those of a deer which was aware of a predator's presence nearby and his nose kept on sniffing the air for any suspicious scents. In no way did he seem hectic, rather precautious.

"Oi, what's all the crap?" Rin growled angrily, letting the pain of their collision fogging his common sense.

»Sshht... not a word!" Amaimon snapped back at him, quietly but threateningly enough to piss Rin off even more. Oh, there were many insults and protests on the tip of his tongue, yet this time he kept his mouth shut. No need for fighting over nonsense in the middle of nowhere. He knew the broccoli-head had a hot temper, better not risking to tick him off.

Instead, he rose to his feet, brushed leaves and dirt from his school uniform and carefully touched his battered nose. It didn't feel broken and already seemed to heal up again; at least the pain was bearable. Good news.

He took the opportunity to look around as well. They were located in a small hollow surrounded by large pine trees and thick, thorny brambles. The crowns of the trees intertwined about two feet above their heads, forming a kind of ceiling that barely let any sunlight through. That explained the darkness in here. Yet, Rin felt like a fly trapped in a very large cobweb-cocoon, waiting for the spider to appear and suck him dry. The mental image made him shudder.

He distracted his mind by scanning his surrounding further: In the center of the hollow there was a similar construction of a bed, as he had seen in that one memory sequence. Wild vines weaved themselves into a pedestal; a thick mattress of dark green moss rested on top of it. He quirked an eyebrow. What was the meaning of that? Did Mephisto send his brother to sleep in the forests? Even though he had enough guest rooms in his palatial villa...?

»Marutukku*-formation!« Amaimons voice bellowed and drew Rin's attention.

As if on command - and it probably was one - swarms of moths scattered from the corners between the network of branches around them, whirred through the air for a while and then settled on the ceiling. They matched the shape of a sigil in a perfect circle. Rin didn't recall the symbol, but he could tell that it was neither kanji nor any other character of Japanese written language by the looks of it.

Rin recognized the moths as Chuchi, those little demons which possessed insects and which had provided him and his friends a very strenuous training weekend. Well, actually it had been Amaimon causing all the trouble. Back then the Earth King had been nothing more than just another enemy for him, not his older brother.

Rin threw a sideway glance at him. Would they ever get along? At the moment it seemed like they actually were, but things changed quickly when Amaimon was around. That hot temper, that self-imposed superiority, that untamed ferocity... really, who was he to judge him? Amaimon was so much like himself, after all.

The Earth King's eyes scanned the uncoordinated bustle of wings and when his features became a kind of pleased expression he barked: »Baalsuku**!"

A flash of green light flared up on the Chuchi's bodies and cascaded down in a faint glow on the cocoon's walls made of tangled branches, tree trunks and bushes. Rin had suspected it all along and now this glimmering light confirmed that the possessed moths formed a seal which had just been activated ...

...and imprisoned them both underneath a warded bell jar.

"Hey, what's the point of that?" Rin immediately reached for his katana. He had no desire to stand around unconcerned any longer. It was time for some action. "Why did you lock me in here with you? You wanna fight?"

Amaimon gave him a blank look; his usual bored expression. A slight snort and a tired, yet mocking lifting of one corner of his mouth told him, that the demon did not take him seriously and that he characterized his question as stupid.

"Brazen and loud like the screech of a banshee, but dense and weak like a single Coal Tar. I don't wish to fight. The seal is merely a protective measure, a kind of invisibility cloak for those who don't want to be found. Sit down, we will talk." Amaimon pointed to a kind of seating arrangement: small pieces of tree trunks, instead of chairs, around a large tree stump, which suited as a table.

Kurikara slid the few inches, it had been drawn, back into its sheath. Okay, no fight, then; just a conversation. The last conversation they both had in private wasn't that bad, apart from Amaimon pinning him into the ground like a greenhorn and riddling him with weird questions. His eyes absentmindedly skimmed the greenish illuminated ward. Protective measure? Fine, he could live with that explanation. Shrugging the teenager strolled over to the offered seats and sat down.

"I'm not dense and weak like a Coal Tar," he muttered, quite irritated about the way Amaimon judged him.

"Why did you search for me?" The latter replied, ignoring Rin's protests.

"I have some questions."

"Aniue answered all your questions more than sufficiently."

"I'm not talking about general stuff. Sure, Mephisto claims to be an omniscient smartass..." Amaimons rudimentary eyebrows narrowed and a frown formed on his forehead. Rin sighed. Of course it was foolish to insult Mephisto in his brother's presence. Try again. "Look, the thing is, I would like to get to know you better, personally I mean. We're brothers, after all."

If the demon was surprised by that he didn't show it. He still looked bored, despite the menacing stare. It was annoying in its own way, like talking to a child that defied any arguments by sheer ignorance. "I'm not interested, since I'm none of your concern. Is that all?"

That smug cockiness...! It pissed Rin of so immensely.

"Fine. Then, I'm not interested in any further conversation with you!" The half-demon retorted sourly, rising to his feet again and glaring daggers at his demonic brother. "Let me out of here and hea-!"

"I refuse."

"Come again?" Rin felt the heat of his flames stirring inside him like a kindled furnace. It was smouldering hot and almost unbearable to restrain as the feeling licked on his throat like fire licked on dried wood. _Control them, I know you can._ "What do you mean?" He managed to press out between grit teeth.

"Simple. You know too much, so you have to stay." Amaimon fixed him with his eyes. "There is plenty of time ahead to get to know me better, right?" And his grin resembled Mephisto's so much that Rin inwardly shuddered.

It didn't keep his mouth shut, though. "You kidding?! I don't know shit. What are you talking about?" Oh the look told him, Amaimon wasn't kidding at all. The broccoli-head meant what he said.

"You know this hideout, reason enough. You stay. Period."

Rin was baffled. This couldn't be happening! What did all that talk about hideout mean, anyway? Who was Amaimon hiding from? How long would he hide?

Well, he hadn't any more patience to find out. If Amaimon refused to answer any questions regarding himself, then he also wouldn't tell Rin what was going on. It was about time that the teenager played his own trump card in this game, although it was a little poor to rely on that. But, if he was to convince that stubborn demon to let him go, then it would have to do. "Mephisto certainly wouldn't like-"

The grin morphed to a scowl. "SHUT UP! I don't care about what Aniue likes or not!"

A small jerk went through the ground, barely noticeable and not at all comparable to the earthquake that Amaimon spouted ever before. Yet Rin flinched, nonetheless, startled from this violent reaction. Anger and hatred mingled in azure eye. The Earth King's hands were clenched to fists and his teeth grit. From superiority to beastliness within seconds.

What the hell was going on?

* * *

To the attentive eye and the sensitive ear even the smallest of signs never goes unnoticed. Mephisto was aware of the slight vibration underneath his feet, even before the silver spoon in his empty tea cup began to clink. And he did recognize the signature at once... Amaimon.

Finally!

He didn't hesitate. With a _poof _the principal was gone, just to pop up at the edge of the school forest. He wasn't surprised that he didn't appear right in front of the Earth King. The signature had been too faint to determine the exact position, but Amaimon wouldn't be far from this place. Maybe three miles into the forest, maybe less.

"Here is where you are hiding, then? Right under my nose... you insolent boy."

A devilish grin graced Mephisto's features. His brother's tremendous audacity was very much to his liking. Everything that floated outside his direct reach, got that special, irresistible allure and awakened the desire in him to lay claim on it. Thus Amaimon's little rebellion made him more appealing than he had ever been. He chuckled slightly.

"Yare, yare... Another night of freedom shall be granted to you, dear brother. But tomorrow your hunting season will begin." As his grin stretched even wider, forest green eyes narrowed to crescent-shaped slits and glowed in predatory anticipation.

* * *

Twilight and approaching autumn brought pleasant temperatures along. The first flights of wild geese left Japan for sunnier climes with loud quacking noises and the first leaves were changing from their usual lush green to a bright yellow or deep red colour. But Yukio cared little about that as he took the path from the tram stop to True Cross Academy.

He, for once, was not lost in thoughts, but that didn't actually make him feel better in any way as well. Basically, he felt nothing. He felt like a soulless windup toy that marched as long on a predefined way as the string wasn't coiled up in its back. Maybe he'd just stop moving somewhere, if that occured? Would he sink to the ground, unable to ever get up, unless someone pulled his string again?

He shrugged. Why should he care? Maybe it was even for the better if Yukio Okumura stopped operating forever. Why care at all?

Tired, empty eyes drew his attention to the roads without actually seeing anything. Had True Cross always been so bleak and bland? He put one step after the other, without knowing where he found the strength to keep on going; each step felt like his legs were made of lead.

"Yukio~ What a pleasant surprise to find you here. Still out so late?"

"Good evening, Sir Pheles. It was a long day." His voice did not waver as he made unmistakably clear that he did not wish for any company at the moment. So, there was actually still something left in him, he could rely on.

Of course, this didn't deter the demon in the slightest.

»My my, how uptight you are~ it's a beautiful late-summer evening with cool, fresh air and a marvellous sun-set which both arise the anticipation of a starry night sky. Don't let your sight get clouded by gloomy thoughts~"

If Yukio hadn't focussed on his way and completely banished Mephisto from his field of vision, he probably would have noticed the wide grin and the approach much earlier. This way, however, he just suddenly felt an arm snaking around his waist, followed by a slightly sickening pull at his intestines. Moments later he stumbled forward into a small alley, which was only lit by colorful billboards and lanterns from the larger side street.

"There is nothing like a splendid dinner and a bottle of sake to get aware of who one really is underneath the painted surface." Yukio's eyes widened. How...? "As it happens, I know a wonderful teppanyaki restaurant just around the corner, which serves the best yakisoba throughout True Cross Town. Would you mind to accompany your principal for a night full of entertainment and gastronomic pleasures?"

"I'm not sure if I want-"

Sir Pheles shook his head in disapproval, grinning while looking at him. In his green eyes rested knowledge and insight. Such a piercing, intimate look. It felt as if Yukio got stripped bare to his soul; he was gazing right into his insides without discretion or restraint. "Are you not tired of this? Doing what you think is "the right thing"? Acting like a robot which acknowledges neither rests nor flaws? Allow yourself to let go of this attitude at times, be open to new views and enjoy your youth for a couple of hours. How often does it happen that I'm generous enough to invite you for dinner, hm? Now, shall we?"

_"Yukio, you don't have to take everything so deadly serious. If you want to be just a kid __every now and then_, I would be the last person who would deny you that. It's okay, you have every right to do so. You are still a kid. So, we gonna go eat ice cream now, or not?"

Different words, but the message remained the same.

And without awaiting Yukio's answer, the demon dragged him from the darkness of the alley into the bright shining light of the shopping street in the southern district of the city. A soft smile graced Yukio's lips. Could it really be that simple? Could he, just for a brief moment, throw his obligations overboard and enjoy his life?

For this brief moment, he could... and more importantly, he wanted to.

* * *

The human mind is simple.

As much as humans claim that they are independent, they do rely on others to determine their own value.

Be it a mate for the sake of being loved.

Be it parents for the sake of being cared for.

Or be it friends for the sake of appreciation and acceptance in society.

Losing faith in oneself might smash one's world, but, with a bit of aid from those beloved ones around, it's easier to forget and built a new world on top of the ruins. If one relies on the wrong person, though, this world can become a treacherous trap, a false hope woven from lies and manipulation...

* * *

TBC

* * *

**A/n: Argh... why can't charcters just do what they are told...? I rewrote this chapter about three times and Rin and Amaimon would just jump at each other's throats and kill each other. -_- Those two can't just have a normal conversation, really. Not much happening in this chapter... I realise. Point is, I'm re-arranging the teams in this sequel. ;3 Amaimon and Rin vs. Mephisto and Yukio. (Yukio dear, you picked the wrong partner.)  
**

***Marutukku: Taken from the Necronomicon by Lovecraft, a book which claims to inherit old summons and seals regarding old demons and spirits. (It's totally fictional as far as I know, though.) Marutukku is the master of the art of protection in there, whatever this is supposed to mean... I'm using his seal for creating a protective ward and pretend it's some ancient magic demons can use in Assiah to create wards like humans do. :3**

****Baalsuku: Also taken from the Necronomicon. The word which calls Marutukku into our world. So I evolved it into the word that activates the protection ward. :D **

**Trivia about the Necronomicon: The author claims the words and incantations in there are either Sumerian or Akkadian or some other old, dead language. Whether this is true or not I cannot say, since I don't speak any dead languages apart from Latin (yeah, make others and yourself believe you can actually still understand any Latin... -_-).  
**

**Anyways, hope you liked it so far. :D **


	6. Chapter 06: Lonesome (Part 1)

**Crossfire  
**Chapter 06.1: Lonesome

* * *

_Like a cloak it wraps around me_  
_Soft and hard the solitude_  
_And my blood is calm and cold,_  
_Inside myself serenity grows._  
_Ravens fly by the score_  
_The eagle flies to the light alone_  
_And only a fool needs company,_  
_I do not need that all.  
_(Subway to Sally "Einsam")

* * *

Solitude can take on strange forms.

There is a kind of loneliness that is simple; when a human or an other sociable being is kept on her own, isolated from her conspecifics and not allowed to interact or exchange in any form.

Then there is a more complex loneliness than the aforementioned. Loneliness an individual feels, when it's surrounded by conspecifics, yet doesn't enjoy the company for various reasons: Either because it itself feels it doesn't belong there or because it is studiously avoided.

* * *

Rin felt this kind of loneliness when being around his big brother Amaimon. He was kept prison by him somewhere in nowhere in the school forest and there was no way things have changed since then.

The Earthking stopped talking a while ago and was ignoring him by staring holes into the ceiling of buzzing Chuchi bodies, with their eyes glowing like blood red stars in the absolute darkness. He silently lay on his self-made plant-bed... Amaimon was never one for big words, but this utter silence was so awkward after his short rage tantrum.

Whatever this was all about, it had something to do with Mephisto... Rin didn't have to be that smart a person to figure this one out. Damn clown... what did he do this time? Making the Earthking hide in the deepest forest like a scaredy-cat... and even worse, dragging him into it!

It had to be something serious, though. Rin had witnessed Amaimon's unwavering loyalty towards Mephisto. So, what could have happened?

The teenager sighed as his brain came up with ideas, one being more idiotic than the other. He brushed his fingers through his bluish-black hair and stepped up to the wickerwork of tendrils.

„Oi, listen up, man. If I have to hang out here with you for a while can you at least make another one of those..." he fumbled, trying to find a suitable word for the thing Amaimon lay upon and couldn't come up with any. So he simply pointed at it. „...make such a bed-thingy? 'Cause I don't want to sleep on the ground. I mean, it's pretty damn cold and there are pointy sticks and needles everywhere."

Amaimon chose to ignore him; not even spared him a glance or an irritated sigh.

„Oi, man! Seriously! It's fucking uncomfy! And I'm no feral, sloppy..."

And there he got the attention, but unfortunately not the kind of attention he was looking for. The Earthking's eyes glowed with fury and for a moment Rin actually believed that looks could kill, judging by the constricted feeling in his throat.

„Feral, yes? Sloppy, yes?" he scowled. „Are you saying, I'm less civilized than you...?"

Rin gulped and stumbled backwards a few steps, but then thought about it and went to scratching his cheek sheepishly. Did he really mean it like that...? Well, he might have implied... „Well, I mean... Gehenna's a rough place, isn't it? A lot rougher and less civilized than Assiah, if I recall correctly. It's probably just for the best if you're a lot more rough yourself then..."

„Just keep on talking yourself deeper and deeper into shit, Rin Okumura. Gehenna's more civilized than you may think. Those few memories of Aniue are about 5000 years old, things changed from back then. You know nothing about it, even less do you know about being a proper demon."

Wow, 5000 years ago...? That was a tremendous amount of time between then and now. Never guessed that the demon principal was that old. That kind of made him a dinosaur, an ancient relict from ancient past.

But more importantly, Earthking or not, Rin had to make one thing perfectly clear: „What if I don't _want _to be a _proper demon _goddammit, ever thought of that, smartass? I accept my powers and I accept that I am a spawn of Satan, but I won't accept doing weird shit just because that's what a _proper demon_ would do, okay? I'll choose my own path and I simply refuse to walk it on the dark side of the alley!"

What was wrong about that anyway? He wasn't the only demon, or rather half-demon, who preferred Assiah to Gehenna. There were plenty of demons around who did exactly the same and who didn't do bad stuff for the sake of being accepted in society. Kuro, Ukobach, yes, even Mephisto acted his role. Amaimon wasn't utterly bad either. He could be reasonable at times.

„Tell me then, what's the big difference between you and me? Apart from you stuffing yourself with sweets most of the times we ever meet, that is..."

The demon looked like he got seriously insulted by that and ready to jump the teenager's throat to beat the difference into him. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea of Rin to make that sweet-stuffing-comment.

But as life always dictated for him before, he of course couldn't keep his mouth shut now, even though it might have been more convenient. „...well and apart from you being a bit on the lunatic side. Come on, don't look at me like you are about to beat me to pulp... I thought we managed to get past our differences. I didn't mean to insult, it's just my mouth being an ass and not knowing when to stop, okay? And I seriously want to know an answer to my question. 'Cause I don't get it at all. Where's the difference?"

The demon rose from his bed of tendrils and approached Rin slowly. The latter already prepared himself inwardly for getting attacked and punched to mince meat – for reasons probably just _proper demons_ would understand – but nothing of this happened. Amaimon stopped and stared, then he circled him like a predator cornering its prey, looking him up and down, before coming to a halt behind him and drawing closer – too close for Rin's liking! Then he... sniffed...? _What the fuck?!_

„I smell no fear, uneasiness at the most." he murmurred thoughtfully, adding an extra questionmark to the one Rin already had hovering above his head.

„The fuck's wrong with youuuuuu~ OI!" Rin exclaimed as the Earthking suddenly grabbed his wrist and threw him onto the mossy mattress of his plant-bed. „Uff...!"

Amaimon sneered down at him. „We share the bed, you pampered princeling, and I'll even explain to you the big difference between you and me. But after that you will shut up. Your chatter is irritating."

The teenager wanted to protest. A lot of stuff regarding this proposal was simply NOT okay.

First of all, sharing beds with a guy... that was gay! And it was even gayer since he knew that Amaimon and Mephisto were doing things in bed; things he wouldn't want to think about right now. They might call it „bonding" or „forming contracts", to Rin it was still sex between brothers.

Secondly, he was not a _pampered princeling_! He was raised in a rather humble set-up, not exactly poor, though. The old man was a lovely dad and he rewarded the twins with a fair amount of presents on their Birthday and Christmas, but this didn't make Rin pampered or spoiled in any way. Mephisto was the pampered one!

And lastly, he didn't chatter, it was just... curiosity forming words. And the question wasn't unjustified at all.

Yet for the sake of peace, a good sleep on a really comfortable mattress instead of the cold, hard ground and for the sake of his question getting answered, Rin just kept his mouth shut and nodded... not without grumbling between his clenched teeth, though. He just hated to have to be submissive.

„Good boy. And Aniue claims you aren't adaptive." That sneer was teasing...

_No, Rin, you won't lower yourself to..._

„Stop grinning, you one-man-freakshow!"

…_oh yes, that will help, pea brain._

The punishment was a clean punch to his face which made him see stars and an even more painful tugging on his tail. A gasp was all that escaped his mouth even though his lungs seemed to burst from forming a vociferous scream as the pain crept through his body and almost knocked him out.

„Shut up already, you wimp. I'll explain it only once. And if you dare to interrupt me once then I'll beat you to pulp and feed you to the Chuchi. Then you wished you never asked for a bed."

_...or following you, asshat!_

Rin scowled, rubbing his throbbing jawbone and curling up his vulnerable tail. Then he nodded. What else could he do? There was no doubt Amaimon would do what he threatened to do. Without Mephisto's control the Earthking was like an unleashed, sharp-teethed beast without a muzzle, ready to attack everyone and everything in its way.

_Mephisto, you damn clown, whatever you did to make him like that, I'll fucking kill you for this stunt!_

„Well," the Earthking started, lay down on the mattress beside Rin and crossed his arms behind the back of his head - whether he slammed his elbow against Rin's temple on purpose or not was up to anybody's guess. „There's a lot of differences between us. Firstly, you've got a body. Secondly, you've probably got a soul, being half a human and all. And thirdly, you act like you are human, while I act like a demon."

Now that was an explanation. „Duh, tell me something new. I mean I get the idea of body and soul. But what about this „acting like a demon or human" shit? How does a proper demon act... Kuro's a proper demon, too, and I can tell he's-"

„Cat Sithe's are demons possessing cats, which means animals. They are different from us..."

„You mean human demons?"

Amaimon wrinkled his nose as if he was disgusted and sighed in annoyance. „There's no such thing as a _human demon_. There are demons possessing humans and performing like them, but _human demons_... that's just wrong." _How hypocritical!_ "Whatever, demons are never up to good. They aim to counteract human ethics and thereby live in Assiah by what you humans call the seven cardinal sins."

Rin remembered that the old geezer once told him about those. He just couldn't quite recall them. Religious stuff and Catholicism never interested him much, so he never cared to listen closely. "I heard about them..."

„Sloth, greed, gluttony, pride, wrath, envy and lust." Rin could feel himself blushing at the mentioning of the last sin. „Bodily cravings or amenities, if you so choose."

„And why just in Assiah?"

Amaimon shrugged. „We don't have bodies in Gehenna, at least not in a physical sense. The substance we are made of, ether or, as humans use to call it, miasma, is different from flesh and blood. It's not comparable, not satisfying in a way..."

Rin pondered for a moment, gazing up to the Chuchi. The soft greenish glimmer from the seal clinging to them made him somewhat drowsy, but he still wanted to learn more, now that Amaimon was so talkative.

„But humans crave for those sins, too, don't they? Is that just because of demonic influence or is it due to humankind's basic instincts... 'cause that's what I learned in school." There wasn't much in school he remembered learning, but he'd never forget about that. It made him feel so much better, when he still believed he was human; it gave him the chance to explain the demonic side in himself. "If it's just about that..."

Amaimon raised his index finger, silencing Rin at once. "There is a difference. Humans would live by the cardinal sins, but they just can't. They aren't reckless and self-centred enough, because it would mean that only the strongest can survive. _Natural selection_ it is called and natural it would be. But humans refuse to leave behind the weak ones. They carry them along, even giving them the opportunity to reproduce. We demons wouldn't ever defy nature like that. The strongest are meant to live on, the weakest are to die."

"That's cruel."

"It's natural, idiot. Helping weaklings and letting them reproduce will earn them generations of degenerated humans who are unable to care for themselves, because the strongest were busy with helping them instead of reproducing. I don't understand how humans can be too blind as to see that. Sooner or later they will cease like this."

Rin gave it a thought. If he was part of the stronger humans, then he would undoubtedly have no problem with surviving on his own. Yukio would now surely be able to survive on his own, too. But it wasn't always like that. Yukio was part of the weakest, always being bullied and pushed around by stronger kids. Back then, he wouldn't have been able to survive on his own.

„That's not true... if given the chance, the "weak" ones can surprise the strongest, surpass them even..."

He kept on thinking while he spoke those words. What about his friends? Shiemi was a weak person at first, so fragile, so not able to survive on her own. But she was doing great now, she saved their asses many times and never lost her kindness on the way. Bon was a fighter, just like himself. He wouldn't have any trouble to deal with problems on his own. Same applied to Kamiki. Shima was a coward, yet he was also a fabulous Knight if he actually went into battle. Koneko was short, weak and easily scared, but without his tactics and battle plans they'd all be screwed by now.

„...If given the chance they can be brilliant and reveal their hidden talents! Everyone's good at something!"

So what if humans couldn't live on their own? Did they need to? Problems were easier solved if they worked together and it was more fun, too. Couldn't demons see that?

„You and Mephisto worked together as well, didn't you? Because it's easier to not go all by yourself, isn't it? And despite you being a demon and claiming to have no feelings, I saw what's there between you and him. He cares, goddammit, he thought you'd die on that day you got burned in the _Kammer des Shutiru..._ you know what I mean... and he was fucking scared that he might lose you. And I could see the affection you feel for him the other day, that wasn't just loyalty. And it wasn't merely posing or acting your role either! It was the real deal, from both of you! so don't give me that, demons-survive-just-on-their-own-crap!"

A scowl, a glare. „Shut up, it's nothing but pathetic!" Amaimon barked, and turned his back on him. „You ain't a demon... you don't know nothing."

Rin sighed resignedly. It had been worth a try, but it seemed the Earthking's wrath was still too strong to argue with him about that specific topic. Such a stubborn bloke.

So, this was the end of their discussion, was it? He might as well sleep then... Annoyed, Rin turned his back on Amaimon, too.

The moss was soft and it smelled nicely of earth and freedom. He still liked his mattress in the dormitory better, though. Tomorrow he would convince the Earthking that living with Mephisto was better than this... tomorrow...

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**A/n: Uhhh... hi..? Anyone still remember me after my long absence? I'm really really sorry that it took so long for me to get this chapter up... it was quite a royal pain in the a**. ^_^" Amaimon is quite a hard character to grasp... something between cute, lunatic and normal...? Dunno if he turned out OOc in this chapter. I really tried my hardest to keep him in character. Rin's not easy for me to grasp as well... but luckily he had his own mind of how this conversation was going to be... he should really learn to tame his tongue, though. v.v Amaimon's not always so friendly as to let him get away with that many insults... and constantly rubbing salt into his wound. Seriously Rin, he has a reason to be so stubborn about Mephisto. **

**There are a few topics in this chapter which I really wanted to mention. Especially the natural selection part. It seems so unnatural ike we huans behave, doesn't it? I mean, we really drag along the weak ones... shouldn't complain to loudly, though, since I wouldn't be able to survive on my own. At least without doctor's around. So, Rin's actually got a good point here. (Wow! o.0) Everyone's got something, no matter if he's handicapped or not. Think about it, a lot of the greatest virtuosos and minds are handicapped... think of Hawking (****Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis**), Beethoven (deafness), Nietzsche (depressions)... there are plenty more examples and it keeps me wondering if this is the key for appreciation. x'D

**This is, by the way, a splitted chapter... the other part contains Mephisto and Yukio, of course. But it's even longer than this part, so I decided to make a cut and split it here. Don't you hate me for that?**** =^_^= Anyway, the** next part will be out faster, because it's already written and just needs to get translated and fine-tuned~ Hope you enjoyed this one, though, too. 


	7. Chapter 06: Lonesome (Part 2)

**Crossfire**  
Chapter 6.2: Loneliness

* * *

_Lonesome I wish to perish  
And sink into the sands of time  
One day I will rise again  
Lonesome I will drink from the spring  
Lonesome I wish to perish  
Like a ship in the wild seas  
I wish to perish alone  
To return one day._  
(Subway to Sally "Einsam")

* * *

The restaurant was a rather nondescript establishment from the outside and almost vanished between the forest of neon signs and the size of the other buildings around it. It appeared traditional, small and cozy and it didn't need any flashy billboards to draw attention, if the queue in front of the entrance was any indication. _Karakara no Sakana_ was burned into the wood of three square panels - the name of the restaurant. _Laughing Fish_... what a morbid name for a restaurant that apart from teppan-food also offered sushi.

Yukio was about to line up at the end of the queue, but Mephisto confidently sashayed to the front. The doorman standing there wasn't your typically bouncer, like those beefy guys from the night clubs in town, but a dapper man in a tuxedo; judging by his appearance somewhere around his mid-fifties and probably from overseas, most likely Europe. But Yukio couldn't say that for sure.

„Bonsoir, Monsieur Poisson. Comment allez-vous?" The principal bowed like a jester and presented him his usual toothy grin.

„Ça va bien, Monsieur Fauzt!" The stern looking man gave him a heart-warming smile, shook his hand enthusiastically and, as proper Frenchmen did, kissed his cheeks. „What a pleazure!" His Japanese was fluent but richly accentuated with a French accent. „We 'aven't zeen you around 'ere for quite zome time. 'ow is your school doing? Ztill full of inzolent pranksterz?"

The demon chuckled mildly amused and picked up the small talk, after readjusting his composure and - most important of all - his top-hat. „Naurally. It seems the richer they are the more snobbish and spoiled they get; as one would suspect, of course. Alas, what would a school be without the spirit of juvenile rabidity? In all honesty, I wouldn't want it any other way."

"I wonder if it rather 'az zomething to do with their parentz' walletz paying your feez?" The old man winked, an amused glimmer in his grey-bluish eyes. "Buzinez iz buzinez, am I right?"

Sir Pheles chuckled. "Oh, my dear friend, you have seen right through me. I have to admit it's a most relevant factor indeed. But, as I can see, your business is flourishing as well, even without my humble presence. Would it still be possible to get a table for my young friend and I tonight, though?"

„Why zertainly, Monsieur! Your table is alwayz rezerved!" Poisson immediately picked up a small golden bell and rang it three times with an elegant flick of his wrist. It was a soft, pleasant sound, not loud and certainly not obtrusive. Shortly after another man appeared at the entrance, not much older than Yukio himself and Japanese – probably one of the students. He was dressed in a black suit with a red bow-tie and an equally red cummerbund, bowing politely, he introduced himself as Toshio and led them inside, after Poisson and Sir Pheles exchanged a few words of parting.

Pistachio-green walls and dark teak were lit nicely by lantern shaped lights and created a cozy atmosphere. The tables – there were just about ten or twelve at the most – were placed on platforms around the walls, covered with tatami mats and separated into compartments by folding-screens. Right in the middle of the room the kitchen was located, extremely clean, despite it being in use. It guaranteed an unrestricted view on how the food got prepared before the dishes got served. Such a nice idea, actually.

Everything was kept simple and very traditional, but the restaurant exuded an air of luxury; a luxury Yukio wasn't used to and made him feel slightly out of place. Nervously he fumbled on the knot of his tie and stiffened, snapping back into old behaviours.

Toshio led them to a cabin at the far end of the room. Four navy blue zabutons were arranged around a kotatsu with an integrated iron griddle. The wall was traditionally embellished with an tokonoma, which was decorated by a fancy ikebana arrangement consisting of orange-coloured fire lilies and sun-bleached wooden branches of undefined origin in a simple, dark bluish porcelain vase.

Yukio was still absorbing the interior like he was a stranger on alien territory, when Sir Pheles already slipped out of his boots and confidently seated himself on one of the soft cushions. He finally snapped out of his state of awe when Toshio cleared his throat politely yet a tad bit impatient. Quickly the young exorcist slipped out of his shoes and seated himself on the opposite side of the demon principal, who was busy typing something into a tablet PC.

At first, Yukio thought he was doing this for pressing business matters, but soon he discovered it was their menu and their link to the kitchen. Everything they wanted would be ordered by this little device.

"Extravagant toy, isn't it?" Mephisto stated with a smirk. "But that's how they keep the absolute discretion, this establishment is famous for. Did you not recognise that a lot of "couples" were waiting in the line? Well, most of them are married men dating their hookups, actually, inviting them to diner and then disappearing into the love hotel, which is located on the other side of the street. I probably don't have to mention that Monsieur Poisson owns that one as well. Clever fellow that one, making a mint of money by selling debauchery. Regarding love affairs, Frenchmen appear to be just as devilish as demons themselves." An amused chuckle escaped his thin lips, as he scrolled down to find the dish he was searching for. "Although it's quite a pain to admit that; I personally never liked France very much, even less the people that live in this country. A rather rude and impolite tribe, but they are outstanding at selling love and food. Ahhh... here it is! I recommend the yakisoba with chili-chicken, provided that you are fond of spicing up your new life a bit...?"

Yukio was about to answer, but Mephisto didn't even cast a glance on him or listened. He simply placed the order.

„Well well, now that this is done it's about time that we proceed to the pleasurable parts of this evening, don't you think?" And as if he knew, this was going to happen, the waiter appeared and served them their first set of hot Saké, while Yukio determinedly tried to extinguish the question forming in his mind, why Mephisto Pheles took him to a place where men dated their affairs. Spicing up his life, he had said... Yukio just hoped this didn't include immorality.

* * *

One hour later the amount of Saké being consumed added up to about three bottles. Saké was nice, but at some point Yukio had been eager to try himself on something else and decided to go for Kirin Premium Beer... he stuck with that, even though Mephisto kept on complaining about his bad taste...

„...and that, my dear boy, is the one and only reason for Japanese beer being absolutely unpalatable, while German Hofbräu is the best!" He spread his arms wide to underline his statement, almost backdropping by this abrupt movement. Yukio just couldn't believe that the amount of beer foam was that important... wasn't it rather all about the taste or, at least, the alcohol content?

Mephisto was funny though, when he was being tipsy. All his prominent gestures seemed to become even more fagish than they already were and he talked about the most random subjects like they were of utter importance.

Yukio's doubts about this evening faded away. Sir Pheles didn't behave at all as intimidating as he had been in the study. He flirted at times, yes, and he also made debauched comments once in a while, even gave him bedroom eyes ones, but he kept distance and didn't try to force his words into action.

Right at the moment Mephisto just sat on the opposite side of the table and looked at him with expectant eyes, as if he needed Yukio's opinion on his remark.

"Well, I still like this beer. But I do believe that Germans are so much better in whatever they do."

„That's absolutely ridiculous! If so, I wouldn't live here in Japan for so many years, would I? German beer is nice... but everything else there." He shook his head, looking as miserable as a child that lost both its parents in war. "Entertainment for example. I cannot express in words how much more entertaining you Japanese people are. Videogames, TV shows, anime, mangas... did you ever see a German manga? No wait, I have to correct that. What I am talking about is actually a manga drawn by a German artist?" Yukio shook his head as an answer. "It's so... so... unsatisfactory!" Sir Pheles' shoulders slumped slightly as much as his ears dropped.

"I'm not talking about the artwork here, even though it's really worse than Japanese artwork. I don't know what the publishers are thinking... there have to be more talented artists in Germany, but they always seem to pick the lousy ones. However, what is really irritating is that they never seem to have any idea of how to built up suspense or even create an authentic plot." He sighed theatrically and massaged the brink of his nose with index finger and thumb. "Everything is always reduced to romance, drama – even though it is actually an insult to the genre itself to name it that – hentai or yaoi. Don't get me wrong. I don't mind that actually, but if there's no proper plot or in-depth characters then it's just like reading a foto-love-story in a porn magazine."

He gave him that expectant look again. What did Yukio know about German manga? All he knew right now was that the alcohol was getting the better of him and that he embraced that feeling. It felt good, like nothing in the world could ever harm him or put any pressure on him. Apart from that, Sir Pheles' misery was funny to look at. He decided to nod, which seemed to please the demon and didn't stop him from talking.

„It may be that those German mangakas got their restricted minds for plotting from the hideous German movie production industry. Almost every movie or series that is produced and broadcasted in Germany contains drama and sentimentality, even if they label it "humor"... not all of them of course, but there are plenty. I'd rather not go into detail about the horrible display of acting from German actors to crown it all. It's such a shame."

Seriously, if Mephisto would proceed to cry fake tears on top of that funeral facial expression, Yukio would personally see to give him an Oscar replica as a reward by tomorrow.

Mephisto inhaled deeply, before he went on to the climax of his oration. "Which leads me directly to German literature!" Oh, the grim expression on the demon's face promised dramas untold. "Germany once was homeland to many of the greatest authors and novelists in history... such as Friedrich Schiller, Gotthold Ephraim Lessing and, of course, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Great wordsmiths of tremendous value. But today the art of writing in Germany seems to have gone extinct. Yet, can one expect masterpieces of wordsmithing when the words themselves have been depraved and violated by the atrocious mutilation that is_ Denglisch_ and urban language? I fear not..." He closed, his arm that had outstretched to the heavens above, dropped at the same pace like his ears and face did. In every theatre in the world people would have given him standing ovations for such a dramatic display, here and now Yukio just really had a hard time to hold back his laughter. But he'd go buy him an Oscar replica tomorrow, that was for sure. The demon really got marvellous talent at acting.

The teenager decided to drown the bubbling chortles which were about to escape his mouth with a sip of beer. It really tasted great – no wonder, Shura always kept at least one six-pack of beer in the refrigerator; even though it was the refrigerator in the staff room. He liked the dizzy feeling that came along with consuming alcohol, too, even though he had to get used to it first that the world seemed to move faster at a certain point. Now he marinated in the feeling of mindlessness and utter freedom. He could do what he want, he didn't care about anything and there was no duty or task that for once would suppress his craving for just having fun and enjoying his young life. It was intoxicating, indeed.

Drinking was fun.

Tipsy Mephisto complaining about _Denglisch_ in detail and shaking his head over the word „downloaden" and the phrase „epic fail" was fun.

Being here instead of preparing for the upcoming week's timetable was fun.

_Just existing_ was fun.

„So, matter of factly, you're telling me that Germany is completely run down?" He chuckled, while Mephisto complained about the abominable school system and the deficient education of German adolescents.

Yet this question washed a slightly affronted expression over the demons face. „Good gracious, not at all! Germany still has its historical geniuses, masterpieces of classical literature, splendid silent movie productions, wonderful architecture in certain parts and cities, such as castles, cathedrals and historic districts. It has its palatable beer and of course the famous Black Forest cake. Not everything went down the drain, young boy."

Yukio couldn't hold his laughter anymore and almost choked on the beer, he had been drinking. He let himself fall backwards onto the soft tatami surface on the ground and laughed until his stomach hurt and tears ran down his cheeks. It was a silly reaction, yet...

How long had it been since he laughed like that? He couldn't tell. But it felt good, so good and liberating.

„That's not funny!" Mephisto exclaimed, while flailing about. His pouting face didn't do any good in ceasing Yukio's laughter, triggered it even further, actually.

„Oh, yes, yes it is, Sir Pheles. Pfuu-hahahahahhaha! It is!" He rolled on his side when Mephisto started moping like a child in a candy store not getting what it wants: sitting there tailor-fashioned with his arms crossed, eyebrows knitted tightly together and - the best part of it – his bottom lip trembling in a pouty way. "I...fufufufu... I'm sorry, Si-hihihi-r."

A kingdom for a camera; his colleagues would hail him like a hero!

The old Yukio wouldn't have ever lowered his guards to give in to such silliness. But the Yukio who gazed upon the debris and shards of his former world, didn't have anything to lose. He could give in to whatever he desired. He could give in to those things he had denied himself for ages for the sake of fulfilling his duties... and right now that Yukio gave in to laughing as much as his lungs could take.

* * *

Mephisto grinned at the laughing boy. He didn't yet know what to expect from him. He seemed less stiff, yes, but it might have been the effects of the alcohol he consumed this evening. Yet, if things developed the way he wanted them to, Yukio was a promising chess piece in his game...

* * *

Solitude can do the strangest things with an individual.

A demon prince who finds his life got poisoned by companionship may embrace the loneliness like a welcome friend and tarry in its bitterness.

A half-demon who enjoys company may wither and die, if he doesn't get the right amount of attention, but he might also become the one who ties loose ends together.

A determined boy who kept company away for the sake of his own improvement into the wrong direction wishes to erase it forever, forming bonds, where bonds shouldn't be formed.

And a demon king with an ambition and goal so unheard of, may gather and feed every aforementioned solitude to create a future that might either be bright or fatal. Yet, he is too ignorant to see that his own loneliness might swallow him whole...

God turned her face away from the screen and sighed. "My dear Samael, choose your path with caution. Future is now entirely in your hands..."

* * *

- TBC -

* * *

**A/n: Well well, this last bit scares the shit out of me...seriously, because personally I don't have ANY idea what Mephisto is up, just know he is up to something and that he's very determined to not tell me until the very end. ê_é Be good to my little boys, they're still babies! *mother hen mode* **

_**zabutons: Japanese seat cushions**_

_**kotatsu: small Japanese table, with integrated heating and blanket-thingy for the cold winter days... very cozy if you've got cold feet. =w=**_

_**tokonoma: something like an alcove, a built-in recessed space in a Japanese style reception room, in which items for artistic appreciation are displayed, such as ****scrolls or ikebana arrangements.**_

_**Kirin Premium Beer: Is good. I like to drink it, even though I'm a spoiled German brat who mostly appreciates German beer... wouldn't say no to Guiness or Heineken eteher, though. XP**_

_**Frenchman/France: Well, I think it's cliché to say Germans hate Frenchman, because they think they're acting snobbish and refuse to speak any other language than French. France is a nice country, Paris is beautiful and I actually met nice Frenchmen in Cambridge language school. Mephisto just likes the clich#e better... xP**_

_**German Entertainment: Is poor... I simply can't sugarcoat that. There are exceptions... rare exceptions. xD**_

**By the way Mister Pheles..., what was that about German author's not having any idea of how to create suspense and an authentic plot? Are you just saying all this *points upwards* is crappy, too? Don't give me that I-did-the-plotting-look! You're in my head and I'm... arguing with a fictional character... =_=" **

**Hope you guys enjoyed this bit, it was longer actually, but I had to cut some unimportant things out. ^^"**


End file.
